


Sublime

by Achasia



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Kidfic, M/M, Model AU, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-12
Updated: 2014-11-12
Packaged: 2018-02-23 10:36:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2544440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Achasia/pseuds/Achasia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn and Harry want a baby, but sometimes they forget that they're kinda babies themselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sublime

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Marsellon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marsellon/gifts).



> A pinch hit for the Zarry Fic Exchange, this is a combination of a Model AU prompt and a kidfic prompt which has culminated in a slice of life sapfest starring somewhat pampered internationally famous male models Zayn and Harry, with cameos by their three busy body best friends.
> 
> Marsellon, I'm sorry I wasn't able to fit in most of the details of either of your very detailed prompts, but I hope you enjoy it anyway! I started the Model AU, but the plot was just going to be too long to do it any justice in the amount of time I had, so consider this a snapshot sequel to what I will hopefully one day publish!

-o-

_**Zayn Malik and Harry Styles get hitched!** _

_16 Nov 2018_

_In the name of The Curls, of The Cheekbones, and The Holy Valentino, we now pronounce them Zarry._

_That’s right, ladies and gents, Hazlan and Zayny Pop have officially tied the knot (and no, we’re not talking about their famous 2015 GQ spread that no one has recovered from yet. Why would we be? Get your mind out of the gutter! This is all about the romance!)_

_The rumors started flying early last week, and while we personally spent the next six days clutching our pearls and scouring the internet for actual sources, the day of reckoning finally arrived. Having a bit of a chat on the Jonathan Ross show last night, good friend of the happy couple (I mean, you may have heard of him, sold a few records, won a few Brits, a few Grammys, whatever, no big deal) Liam Payne confirmed that his pals had finally put a ring on it for good._

_"It was really lovely. It was a small ceremony, just close family and friends, which is how they wanted it. They're really happy," our favourite starry-eyed pop sensation told Wossy. Of course, with no official word having come out, it turned out Liam wasn't actually supposed to give up the goods. "Oops. That probably shouldn't 've come from me," he admitted, the very picture of innocence. Gawd, Liam, didn't you used to be a good boy? No doubt that boyf of yours (King of Fashion Photography and Master of Sass Louis Tomlinson) has been rubbing off on you. Erm. Metaphorically, we mean._ _Don't worry Payno, we're sure even the Face(s) of Burberry won't be able to stay mad at that sad labradoodle face of yours. As for us? Well, we will never forgive you the emotionally devastating and unmitigated attack on our hearts, souls, and loins that followed._

_Normally, dearest Scapers, we would wax poetic about each and every one of Darling Hazza’s Instagram pics of beringed left hands, silhouetted kisses and tiered cakes, and cry through dramatic rereads of his many Tweets, but this time, we’ve decided you need to see them to believe them. Our favourite?_

**LIAMGETMEPREGNANT** @therealmrspayn0511 54m  
@Harry_Styles HARRY HOW DID YOU PROPOSE TO ZAYN?!

 **Harry Styles.** @Harry_Styles 54m  
@therealmrspayne0511 With a knock knock joke .x

 

**Sublime**

Zayn wanted a baby. 

It had sort of hit him a few months ago — the wanting, not a baby — a slow burn that had suddenly become a lorry and run him over. It had been a bit of a shock. Of the two of them, Harry was the one who was mad about babies, and Zayn was mad about animals. Harry would invite himself into conversations with total strangers for a chance to pull faces at a baby in a pram, and Zayn would chase someone down the street to ask if he could stroke their dog. This whole like, baby-mad thing had set Zayn adrift and he didn’t know what to do with it.

He’d always known he’d wanted kids, of course; he’d always wanted to be a dad someday. And he and Harry had made sure they were on the same page before they got married. It was just supposed to be Harry who got to this point first. That was how Zayn had assumed it would happen. Harry would leave several hints that he thought were subtle - like leaving a book of baby names on the magazine rack in the toilet, or inviting all of their friends who had kids over, or having a nursery constructed whilst Zayn was out of the country on a shoot.

But none of that had happened. Harry hadn’t mentioned kids once since they’d got hitched, didn’t seem to pay any more attention to them than usual, and when Zayn casually queued _Three Men and a Baby_ onto their Amazon Prime, Harry hadn’t commented at all. Queuing a film up was about as blatant as Zayn was willing to go. He didn’t want to pressure Harry into a family if he wasn’t ready for one. They’d only been married two years. Harry was only twenty-five. And it wasn’t like Zayn was a shining example of adulthood at twenty-six. It was a lot of responsibility. 

With great power, and all that bollocks.

 

*

 

Doing the big shop with Harry was a trial in patience that Zayn long ago (never) mastered (not ever). He was calm. He was serene. It had been almost two hours since they’d arrived. _Two. Hours_. No, no. He was Zen. He was at peace. There was no anger. There was only the Force. He tucked his hands in the opposing sleeves of his coat, bowed his head and closed his eyes. 

"Babe," said Harry. "Which one of these, do you think?"

Zayn cracked an eye open. Harry’s brow was furrowed in concentration. A stray curl that had fallen out of his ponytail was stuck to the side of his face. He was strikingly beautiful. And holding two identical limes. It had been two hours, their trolley was moderately full of precisely chosen items, and they had only just got to the fruit and veg bit, which made up the majority of Harry’s diet and therefore took the most time. Zayn took a deep calming breath. He was at peace. He was Jedi.

"They look the same."

"I mean, I suppose," said Harry. He looked unconvinced. "But feel them."

Zayn felt them. They felt exactly the same. "They feel the same, like," he said as patiently as he could manage. "I don’t think it matters, Haz. Just pick one, yeah?"

"Yeah," Harry said, but he was still studying them with his eyebrows drawn together. After a million years he said, "I don’t know."

Zayn pressed his lips into a straight line. He was motherfucking Jedi. "What do you need them for?"

"What?" said Harry distractedly. Zayn untucked his hands and waved one between the limes and Harry’s face. Harry startled like a deer, and then looked up and smiled when he saw Zayn’s face. "Oh, sorry. What?"

"What are you gonna use them for?" Zayn asked. Harry’s dimples were great. He grinned wider when Zayn touched one.

"Oh. Oh, um. Right." Harry blinked and wet his lips, and after a few seconds shouted, "A smoothie!" so loudly that Zayn jumped. Harry tilted his chin up and went on confidently, "They go in a smoothie. I found a recipe I want to try."

Zayn frowned. Harry looked shifty. And smug. Zayn looked from Harry, to the basket, to the aisles he’d just spent full hours of his day off in. Because Harry had been indecisive. Not sure if they should buy the quinoa or the couscous. The biscuits or the chocolate. Frozen broccoli or fresh. Peanuts or almonds. The two identical fucking limes in his hands.

Realization threatened Zayn’s cool. "Have you. Have you been doing this on purpose?"

Harry’s eyes rounded and he blinked innocently. "No."

"You’re such a shit liar."

"I haven’t," said Harry. He crossed his heart with one of the limes, but he was smiling like the smug little twat that he was. "I promise."

"You’re an arsehole," Zayn told him. He reached to tug on Harry’s ponytail but Harry danced out the way, laughing. On the shelves of the end cap of the aisle where they stood, Harry grinned rakishly at him from the cover of Men’s Health. Zayn plucked one up and chucked it at him. It bounced off Harry’s arms and into their trolley. Harry was still giggling manically.

"You usually catch on quicker!" he said.

"It’s been two hours! You wasted two hours of our time on a prank and it wasn’t even a good one!" Zayn argued, but he was starting to laugh and couldn’t hold it back. He finally managed to snag Harry by the tail of his stupid mesh jumper. Harry squawked, tripping over the wheel of their trolley and nearly face planting into the shelves, but Zayn caught him. Over the years, he’d got used to making sure he was always in a position to catch a falling Harry. He dug his fingers into Harry’s sides and tickled until Harry was squirming and breathless from laughter. People were probably staring at them, but they were used to that. Harry’s cheeks were red and his eyes were bright, his smile infectious. Zayn kissed the tip of his nose and let him go. "Arsehole."

"Hey, c’mon. You’ve had fun. Admit it," said Harry. "It’s been a laugh."

"It has not."

"Hey, it’s been," Harry smiled so smugly that Zayn knew what he was going to say before the words got out of his mouth. "Hey, it’s been sub _lime_."

Zayn looked at him for a long time, kind of overcome by how happy he was, how happy they were, how much Harry meant to him, how much he still wanted to experience with him, how much he wanted to have a family with him. The words were out of his mouth before he could even think of taking it somewhere a bit more private than the fruit and veg bit of Sainsbury’s. "Haz, d’you want to have a baby with me?"

Harry stared. The same searching, creepy stare he used when they first met in the lift at GQ five years ago. "Yes," he said.

Zayn felt warm all over, and he couldn’t keep the ridiculous smile from stretching across his face. At least until Harry dropped the limes, hauled Zayn in by the drawstrings of his hoodie, and snogged him silly, and when they didn't even manage to unload all the groceries from their car before they fell into bed.

 

*

 

Zayn liked to undress Harry, open him up like a present until all that naked skin showed. He dropped Harry’s jumper off the side of the bed, slid his hand up Harry’s flank as he shoved Harry’s pants down with the other. Harry was already breathing heavily, flushed all the way down to his chest. His nipples were hard and Zayn closed his mouth over one of them. They were both starting to sweat and Zayn liked the taste of it, licked down Harry’s stomach to get more. Harry smelled good, felt good, sounded good. He cried out when Zayn took his cock into his mouth, and his legs spread out wide, knees coming up to cage Zayn in.

He was loud, and mostly wordless, and so big in Zayn’s mouth. Zayn sucked him for a bit, rolled Harry’s balls in his hand and rubbed his fingers over his taint. Harry’s fingers caught in Zayn’s hair, tugging a bit like he couldn’t take the pleasure, breathing in harsh gasps and moans, his voice low and rumbly. He whined when Zayn pulled off but melted back into the sheets when Zayn nipped the softer skin above Harry’s hipbone where the tips of his laurel leaf tattoos curved. Harry was watching him, always loved to watch, but when Zayn brushed dry fingers over the tight clench of his hole his head fell back and his hips jerked up. He was always so needy like this.

Zayn mouthed a bruise onto Harry’s inner thigh, licked a line up the underside of his cock and then sat up. His prick was hard enough to pound nails but it was easy to ignore it. He loved this part, getting Harry off, making him want it so badly. Harry was such a hedonist and would get so lost in how good Zayn could make him feel. 

"Hey," he murmured. Harry blinked open his eyes and Zayn leaned over him, catching Harry’s jaw in his palm and licking into his mouth. Harry dragged his palms up Zayn’s back, trying to pull him closer, but Zayn backed off again. "Hey, roll over."

Harry did, flopping onto his stomach, grumbling like it was such a hardship. Zayn pinched his arse and grinned at the yelp.

He mouthed down Harry’s spine to the crease of his arse, and then licked him out until Harry was shouting, voice raw, begging for it. He had a filthy mouth usually, but Zayn’s tongue in his arse always got to him more than anything else until all he could do was moan and whine and shove his hips back trying to get more. When he was wet enough, spit dripping down his arse and balls to get his dick wet, too, Zayn pressed a finger inside and Harry stiffened up and came just like that, grinding his dick into the mattress and moaning Zayn’s name.

Zayn grinned, worked his way back up Harry’s body, fucking him gently with his finger. He kissed the back of his heaving shoulders and the side of his face, until Harry turned his head and Zayn kissed his mouth, too, and fumbled in the drawer of the bedside table for lube. He was up to two fingers when Harry wriggled away and sat up. Zayn frowned, concerned for a second, but Harry pulled a funny face and Zayn rolled his eyes. Harry took the lube and slicked his hand up as Zayn sprawled on his back, cock resting on his belly, leaving a wet smear where the tip was. Harry stretched out along his side and took wrapped his hand around it.

Zayn bit his bottom lip, spreading his legs a bit to relieve to pressure. He tugged Harry’s hairband out so he could bury his fingers in Harry’s curls. He liked the way it felt against his skin when Harry was above him like this.

"Zayn," Harry said. He kissed the spot just in front of Zayn’s ear and grinned against Zayn’s cheek, did this thing with his long fingers against Zayn’s balls that made Zayn arch up off the bed. Harry moaned against his jaw. "Fuck, look at you. Drive me mad. You’re so gorgeous, babe."

He wanked Zayn’s cock until Zayn thought his brain was going to start oozing out of his ears, and then Harry straddled Zayn’s lap, bent double to kiss him again. His hands were everywhere, pinching Zayn’s nipples and stroking his neck and arms and stomach. Zayn framed Harry’s hips in his hand, thumbs stroking small circles over his skin. His grip clamped down tight when Harry sank onto his cock. 

Harry was tight and so hot inside, and he felt so good. Zayn’s vision was blurry. He tugged the rubber band out of Harry’s hair and combed his fingers through it when Harry bent to kiss him again, and grumbled unhappily at the loss when Harry sat up, Zayn buried deep inside him. Harry’s cock was huge and hard again, wet and drippy with pre-come. Zayn wet his lips and let his eyes drag up the long line of Harry’s torso to his face. Harry rolled his hips, moaning at the pull of Zayn’s cock inside him, and then went still again. He tipped his chin down and smirked. God, he was hot. He was so fucking hot.

"Put a baby in me."

And such an idiot.

"Oh my God," Zayn whispered, covering his eyes with one hand. Harry squirmed in his lap.

"Go on," he said, making his voice husky and deeper. He thrust his stomach out and rubbed his hand over it. It looked more I’ve-eaten-too-much-and-I’m-gonna-eat-you-next than I’m-pregnant, but Zayn didn’t want to rain on Harry’s parade. Harry grunted like a pig and Zayn burst out laughing. "Give it to me," Harry said. "Fill me with your Malik sperm."

"God, stop it, you idiot," Zayn groaned. "You’re making my dick soft."

"Doesn’t feel like it." Harry wiggled his eyebrows and clenched his arse pointedly around Zayn’s cock. "Do it. Go on, do it. I want your baby, Zayn. You want to give me your—no, no tickling!—Give me your—" Laughing helplessly, and then, shouting even louder so their prissy neighbours would hear through the wall, "Oh, Zayn! Yes! Put your baby in me all night long!"

Zayn finally managed to unseat Harry and rolled them over, slipping wetly out of Harry’s bum as he grappled for a grip on Harry’s wrists. He tried to kiss Harry quiet but Harry was giggling too much, which set Zayn off again, and it turned into an impromptu tussle on top of the sheets that ended with Harry underneath Zayn and both of them breathless from laughter. 

"Don’t think that’s how it works, babe," Zayn said eventually, patting Harry’s flat stomach.

"Well," said Harry. "I guess we’ll just get to adopt, then." 

He looked a bit nervous, like he was worried about wanting something so much. Zayn loved him. He just really, really loved him. He pushed Harry’s hair behind his ear and dropped his head to snare his mouth in a slow kiss. Harry spread his legs, reached awkwardly between them to grip the base of Zayn’s cock and lined him up. Zayn pressed back inside, panting against Harry’s lips, excited and happy and horny and Harry wrapped his legs around Zayn’s waist and cupped the back of Zayn’s neck, drawing Zayn’s forehead down to rest against his own.

 

*

 

It took a long time, longer than Zayn had thought it would, if he was honest - nearly a full year, and even though he and Harry were incredibly busy with work, it still felt like a really long time. They moved to a new house that had another bedroom, and along with Louis and Niall and Liam they spent every spare second they had of the summer setting up the baby's room. And then right after London Fashion Week, they brought Sonny home.

She was four months old, and tiny, and had huge brown eyes and a head full of dark hair and the roundest, rosiest cheeks. Every time she moved or made a sound or did anything at all, Zayn’s heart felt like it would explode. In the car on the way home, Harry saw her yawn and promptly burst into tears. He was still sniffling when they got to the house. Both their families were there waiting for them, as well the other lads. Zayn’s hands were shaking a bit as he turned off the car.

Instead of getting out, he crawled into the back of the Range Rover and squashed into the seat next to Harry. The watched in awed silence as Sonny shoved her fist in her mouth and drooled all over her arm.

"I love her," Harry said, and God, yeah, Zayn did too. So much. So terrifyingly much and so quickly that his head was spinning. They clutched each other’s hands in a white-knuckled grip. And then Harry said, "So what do babies, like, like to do?"

Zayn shook his head. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. His daughter. Their daughter. "I have no idea."

 

*

 

It turned out that babies liked to cry. And scream. And shit. And puke And not sleep. Zayn was a reasonably patient guy who had spent plenty of time around other people’s babies, not to mention his younger sisters when he was a kid. He thought he’d been prepared.

For the first two weeks, they’d had both his and Harry’s mum staying with them, and then they’d left and all Hell had broken loose.

Their house looked like the site of the apocalypse. Every room was a wreck of baby toys, baby blankets, baby clothes, baby everything. The kitchen looked like something had exploded (a blender had; Harry’s crap homemade baby food was on indefinite hiatus, which was good because at least Sonny was actually interested in being weaned now). Zayn’s phone kept ringing but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen it, and it apparently had a battery life of forever because the constant noise was driving him mad. There was a literal mountain of dirty clothes that needed to be washed. 

He hadn’t slept, or eaten, or showered. His clothes were covered in stains he didn’t want to identify and his entire body felt oddly numb from standing for three days straight. The smell of even the clean nappies made him gag, the scented plug-in they’d bought was a cloying lavender film over the smell of sick that permeated every nook and cranny. His head hurt, and his chest hurt, and he couldn’t help thinking that he was practically a stranger to her which made his chest hurt worse, and Sonny _wouldn’t stop crying_.

"Please," he begged her, bouncing her gently on his chest as he paced the living room. He’d cleared a path through the crap all over the floor so he could walk in a circle around the sofa. Every so often he did an about face and walked in the other direction for a bit with a quickly-snuffed spark of hope that it might trick her into falling asleep. "Please, sweetheart, you’ve got to sleep. Aren’t you tired?"

She had to be. She hadn’t stopped screaming in two weeks. Zayn shifted her in his arms, tried to get her to look at him but she refused, and when he finally managed to duck into her line of sight she screamed louder, her face screwed up with unhappiness and beetroot red. He tried not to take it personally. It was stupid to take it personally. She was a baby. "You’re a baby," Zayn whispered to her. She hollered. His voice broke, a bit, when he said, "Don’t you like me?"

Sonny was crying so hard her whole tiny body was shaking, and on one particularly loud shriek Zayn thought his legs might give out.

He was so exhausted that he didn’t even question it when the front door swung open, letting in sunlight for the first time in. Well, Zayn couldn’t remember. He squinted. It was very bright. When his vision cleared he could make out Louis, who was walking toward him. Behind him, Liam and Niall were stood frozen in the doorway, taking in the state of the house in what appeared to be impressed shock.

Louis looked very calm. Also clean, and like he was wearing freshly washed clothes. He smelled very nice.

Zayn hated him.

"What’s this then?" Louis asked bossily. He looked from Zayn to the baby and then put his hands on his hips. " _Uhp-uhp!_ "

Sonny lifted her head to look at him, breath hitching in little sobs that made Zayn ache with guilt, and had opened her mouth to scream again when Louis pressed his hand to his lips and blew a very loud raspberry into the palm. Sonny was so appalled that she abruptly forgot she was throwing a tantrum. 

"Damn," said Niall. "If all you’ve gotta do is make fart noises to get babies to stop crying, I’m gonna be a great dad some day."

It startled a laugh out of Zayn, which came out more like a sob. Louis grinned, tickled Sonny’s chubby cheek and plucked her out of Zayn’s arms, settling her against his side. "There you are, sweetheart. Aren’t you beautiful? And smelly? Who’s the most beautiful, smelliest girl in all the world?"

He pulled the same stupid face he made in every picture of him ever taken and Sonny looked like she might cry but decided to laugh instead and then hiccupped. She was so lovely. Zayn didn’t know what to do. He tried to look less helpless than he felt, but it must not have worked because when Louis looked at him his expression went soft.

"Where’s Harry?" Niall asked. "Liam, get in here, mate. We need to close the door."

Zayn looked round at them. Liam was still stood in the doorway, watching Louis with the baby as though he couldn’t look away. Niall finally grabbed him by the arm and pulled him in, shutting the door. The sudden lack of sunlight seemed very harsh. 

"Harry," Zayn answered belatedly. "He fell asleep when she did ‘bout an hour ago. I tried to, but she woke up after five minutes. I wanted to let him sleep. He hasn’t in a while."

Louis, Niall and Liam all shared a look, and Zayn would’ve been irritated if he’d had the energy. 

"Go take a shower," Louis told Zayn. "And then go to bed. You look shit. And smell it. We’ve got this darling girl." He cooed at Sonny, booping her gently on the nose. She stared up at him adoringly and gummed at two of his fingers. Zayn hated him even more. Louis didn’t notice, too busy beaming at the little girl in his arms. "Don’t we, boys?"

"You’re really good at that," Liam told Louis, his voice very soft like he was telling a secret.

"Babies always love me best," Louis explained, and then caught sight of the look on Liam's face. "What’s wrong with you?"

"What?" said Liam, wrapping an arm around his waist. Louis rolled his eyes, but snugged comfortably into Liam’s side all the same before he leveled a glare at Zayn.

"Really, mate. Can smell you from the street. You need to go see to that stank."

It was a bit rich coming from Louis, who had once gone eight days without showering or changing clothes when he and Liam temporarily called it quits, and Zayn wanted to protest, but was too exhausted to bother. Sonny was obviously better off in Louis’s hands than Zayn’s, anyway. Zayn tried to kiss the top of her head to say goodbye, but she started fussing again, and he forced a laugh and rushed off before Louis could judge him for getting his feelings hurt by a baby who didn't know any better and was probably just reacting to the stress she felt coming off him. She could probably tell that. She was his daughter. His daughter who might actually hate him.

God, what if she did? What if when she grew up she did? What if she wanted to find her biological parents? What if she hated him forever and then ran off to find her biological parents?

There was something about having sad, irrational doubts and fears and _knowing_ that they were irrational that made them even more crushing than they would have been otherwise. Like on top of worrying that his kid might not be able to stand having him as a dad, he also felt like he was overreacting, and being childish and dramatic. 

There was also the unfortunate truth that he was giant knob, because in addition to being incompetent at taking care of his daughter, he was also jealous as shit of his husband. Because Harry had made Sonny laugh and stop crying twice just today, and he could get her to sleep, and he'd read a million books about having a new baby and remembered all sorts of things that the baby would need that Zayn never would have thought to buy, and he had no experience with kids at all and was somehow so much better at being a parent than Zayn was.

So Zayn cried in the shower. The ultimate low. At first it was just a bit, sniffles and prickling eyes, and then a few tears. And then he was on sitting on the floor sobbing quietly into his hands, exhausted and sad and more terrified than he’d ever been in his life. He heard the bathroom door open, and then the shower door, but couldn’t make himself look up. Harry sat down behind him and pulled Zayn into his chest, legs spread on either side of Zayn’s hips. He rested his hand over Zayn’s racing heart and kissed his shoulder and the side of his neck. Zayn turned in the loose circle of his arms and tucked his face into Harry’s neck. They hadn’t had much time to themselves the past few weeks. He stayed like that for a bit, water still pounding down on them. When he lifted his head, he was guiltily gratified to find that Harry looked just as exhausted as he did.

"We’re a mess," Harry said.

"Understatement, bro," said Zayn. He got to his feet and took both of Harry’s hands to pull him up too, and then grabbed the sweet smelling shower gel Harry liked and Harry grabbed Zayn’s shampoo.

It felt good to be clean, but by the time they were out of the shower Zayn could hardly keep his eyes open long enough to dry himself. Harry did most of it, and then they crawled into bed. Zayn didn’t even remember his head hitting the pillow before he was asleep.

He woke up hours later. The sun was going down and the house was quiet. Harry was awake but dozing next to him. When Zayn turned onto his side to face him, he opened his eyes. They were still bloodshot, and he had dark circles underneath them, but Zayn thought he looked better than he had in a few days. Zayn touched his cheek and pushed his fingers back into Harry’s hair, massaging his scalp. Harry put his hand on Zayn’s chest, warm over his heart.

"I’ve been really pleased that she cries when you hold her," he confessed, lifting his head to look Zayn in the eye, smiling tiredly. Zayn snorted and grinned right back at him, a weight lifting off his shoulders. There really was no one else in the world who could understand Zayn like Harry could.

"I’ve been really pleased that she won’t let you feed her," Zayn said. Harry shook his head, still grinning.

"She watches you no matter what you’re doing, even when I’m trying to play with her. And when I put her down on the bed she rolls straight to _your_ side."

"She smiles when she sees you," Zayn said enviously.

"Only a little," said Harry. The could hear her babbling happily out in the hallway and Louis answering in an exaggerated voice as they passed by the master bedroom on the way to Sonny’s nursery. Harry frowned grumpily. "Louis makes her laugh. We’re gonna have to kick him out of our lives."

"I know," Zayn said solemnly.

Harry laughed, and then sat up properly on the towels caught underneath them. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. "God, I’m, like. Freaking out, man."

"Me too," Zayn admitted. Harry sighed shakily. His face was pale and his bottom lip was chapped and a bit bloody from where he’d been biting at the skin under all the stress. Zayn sympathised; he’d been smoking two packs of cigarettes a day for weeks. "It feels a bit better, though, now that I know you're freaking out too."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. He smoothed his hand over Zayn's hair. "Yeah, does."

Zayn sat up and thumbed over Harry’s chin to pull his lip out from between his teeth, and then wrapped Harry up in his arms.

A few minutes later, got out of bed and got dressed. The living room was spotless, and Liam and Niall were tidying the kitchen, which was now cleaner than it had ever been even before Sonny was born. Louis, naturally, was supervising, eating crisps and manning the baby monitor. Zayn tried to thank them but couldn't find the words, so instead he grabbed Harry's wrist before the other's noticed them and dragged him off to the baby's room. 

Sonny was asleep in her cot, bathed and dressed in a green babygro and clutching a soft toy lion that she'd got from Gemma. She was so perfect that it hurt to look at her, a bit.

Harry let out a little, happy laugh and hooked his chin over Zayn’s shoulder, wrapping around him from behind. "We can do this," he said firmly.

Zayn carefully stroked over the back of Sonny’s hand where it rested on her chubby little belly. She sighed in her sleep and wrapped stubby fingers around his thumb. She needed them, and they needed her. She was theirs, they were hers. They were a family. There was nothing he couldn't or wouldn't do for his family. 

"Yeah," he promised. "We got this."


End file.
